Blues's Love
by Necchan
Summary: Rockman.EXE/Megaman NT warrior/Battle Network fic. One-shot. Shounen-ai. "Rockman reflects on Blues’s love, and what unables him to understand it."


**Title:** _"Blues's Love"_  
**Author:** _Nemesi._  
**Fandom:** _Rockman.EXE (MMBN)  
_**Genre:**_ Romance. If you squint and read between the lines, there's probably some angst in there for both our boys. Poetic?_  
**Word Count:** _658.  
_**Characters:** _Rockman (Megaman), Blues (Protoman).  
_**Rating:** _PG-13  
_**Disclaimer:** _Rockman.EXE, its characters, places and themes belong to Capcom, Shogakukan, ShoPro, TV Tokio, etc.. No copyright infringement is intended._  
**Warnings:** _Metaphors. Shounen-ai. Un-betaed. Written in a swoop, muses guiding my hand along the way. _  
**Summary:** _Rockman reflects on Blues's love, and why he's unable to understand it._

* * *

Blue's love isn't a boisterous affair, but neither it is secretive. It's not so subtle as to be invisible, but it hardly ever manifest itself in forceful ways. Blues's love is like a well, in which to fall, something you cannot escape, once you've made your way in, even if you wanted to. The sombre, dark waters at the bottom are something you can't fight, something – and Rockman is acutely aware of this – that doesn't _effectively_ try to keep you down, or restrain you, or does anything, anything at all, to keep you from leaving its hold. Blues's love is bottomless and tight, but clear, a love that would let you go free, if you but hinted that was your wish.

Blue's love is like a quiet lake – sombre and seemingly still, barely worried by the breeze, and hiding incredible depths underneath, beautiful to look at. Water is a perilous thing, that's no secret. And like water, Love might, if fancy took it, drown you. But like water, Blues's love would support you completely, if you let yourself go in it, and its deep, unseen currents would cradle you and carry you and deliver you to safe shores, if you but let them.

Blues's love isn't made of demands – it doesn't ask, it gives. It doesn't take, it waits, forever waits, however long. Its depth could pull you in completely, if you but acquiesced – it supports and shields and cradles and nurtures you – makes you addicted, so much you can't let go – but if a drug it is, then it is the gentlest of all, subtler than most, and bears no malice, but great tenderness.

Blues's love is selfless, a love of steady flames that never quieten, drench everything in light and nothing burn. It is soft cover in whose warm folds you could hide, and there be safe; and at once it is a diamond shield, encasing you, hard and beautiful and full of light. It is a lonely love, perhaps; a love that watches from the shadows, wishing nothing more than be seen and answered, but a love so alien to greed that the smallest crumb could sate its need.

Rockman doesn't understand Blues's love – cannot comprehend how someone could give themselves over so selflessly, so completely, to another, and deny themselves at the same time.

Rockman doesn't understand Blues's love, and is frustrated by it. Frustrated because every time he reaches forth, his hands meet nothing. He tries to grasp hold of that shimmering perfection, to delve in the unseen depths and carry to light the shell-crusted treasures there buried for far too long. He strains to catch hold of him, but shadows, as well as light, aren't meant to be caught, they are elusive, real but not, and when Rockman pulls his hands back to his heart, trails of mist are leaking through his clenched fingers, and Blues is nothing more than a spark in the corner of his eyes, so quick and bright, it is almost imagined.

Rockman doesn't understand Blues at all. Doesn't get why, or how, can Blues declare his love for him in so many ways – with look and action and touch – but never with words.

Rockman doesn't understand Blues's love. He lives waiting for the day it will change itself, and Blues will become less elusive, and a little more selfish. Not much. Just enough for him to step forth from the shadows and claim what is his – what has always been his. For the mist to solidify under Rockman's touch into hair of moonlight and a rose-red armour and a velvet rough voice; for the quiet and lulling currents of Blues's feelings to rage and make beautiful storm, for them to close about Rockman, and cover him, and drown him, until nothing of him remains, and he'll forever be part of Blues, and Blues of him.

Rockman doesn't understand Blues's love.

But he returns it, in every way.

**- おわり -**


End file.
